Master of the Horseman
by TheSilverboar
Summary: The Hallows, those who collect all three become the master of Death. What if that was true but not in the way anyone else believed. Forged by the council to control Death long ago, they were lost and scattered until brought together by Harry Potter. Bound to the rider of the Apocalypse as an ally and friend, Harry journeys with him to try and save War, and humanity itself.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Alright, a head's up for the OC listed for the pairing is that it will be a female demon that will travel with Death and Harry during the story. Added to that I changed a few things about the final battle for the purpose of this story, some will be bluntly stated, and others may have to be inferred in I don't make it clear.**

Master of the Horseman

Chapter 1

-Harry-

Easing into a chair, Harry stared down at the collection of items laid out on the table before him. Voldemort was not even a day dead and Harry was already fed up with the wizarding world. The power structure of the government had been shattered, the shards easily picked up by those who survived and now it seemed the government was split into two factions vying for control. One side consisted of the remaining members of the Order led by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the other side being led by Umbridge and was those who believed the blood purist dogma despite never taking Voldemort's brand.

"Master needs his sleep." The concerned voice of Kreacher spoke from his left, the ancient house elf just as bloody and battered as Harry was.

"I'll head to bed eventually Kreacher," he sighed, managing a thankful smile to the small creature "I…just need a bit."

"If Master is sure." Kreacher gave him a suspicious look before slinking off to his closet bedroom, the elf too exhausted to offer much protest. The second the house elf was out of sight Harry's shoulders slumped, the exhaustion and misery of the past year finally catching up to him. On the table in front of him were seven distinct items. He had the sword of Gryffindor, blood stained and gleaming as it had returned to him during the final battle.

Bellow the sword lay the three Deathly Hallows. The cloak had been kept tucked away Hermione's expanded bag during the battle and he only reclaimed the item once the chaos had drawn to a close. The stone had been tucked into his mokeskin pouch once he had summoned the shades of his loved ones. With the madness of battle and the threat of imminent death lifted from his shoulders though he realized they weren't likely the real shades, or if they were they were being altered. His family, they would never have encouraged him to die. Sirius and Remus he knew for a fact would have fought him tooth and nail to go back and try to live. Finally lay the elder wand, sitting there in its seeming innocence.

Finally, and most painful of all, lay three wands. His Holly wand along with the wands of Ron and Hermione. The Holly wand he had carried for so long felt almost dead in his hands now, the familiar spark having faded from it along with the shard of Voldemort's soul in his scar, that having been what drew the wand to him in the first place. Hermione and Ron, their wands lay in his grasp as their users lay with the fallen. Ron had fallen first, having charged a horde of Death Eaters to protect a group of younger students who had snuck back to try and fight. Ron's sacrifice had saved their lives at the cost of his own, over a dozen Death Eaters having fallen to take down Harry's first friend.

Hermione had died fighting Bellatrix, the mad witch second in power only to Voldemort himself amongst the Death eaters, having already bested Ginny and Luna, the two girls seriously injured during the duel. Hermione, seeing her friends' injuries after already losing Ron, had gone berserk. Spell after spell had flown from her wand with frightening accuracy as Bellatrix was backed into a corner behind her rapidly cracking shield. Getting too close was Hermione's mistake as Bellatrix fired a dark cutting curse, separating Hermione in half at the waste even as Hermione's last spell, a piercer, went through the mad witch's brain.

Deciding Kreacher was right, Harry grabbed the collection of items and rose to head to bed. He hadn't even made it to the door when he felt the raw pulsing magic fill the kitchen of Grimmuald Place. Leaping to the side, reluctantly drawing the elder wand, he pointed it to a forming purple rift, a deathly pale figure stepping out from it. The figure was tall and thin, skin as pale as a corpse with a mask of bone covering his face, two burning orange eyes staring out from the mask. "Who dares to summon me?" the figure asked, thankfully sounding more irritated than truly angry.

"Who the fuck dares to break into my home?" he snapped back, loss of blood and loss of his friends leaving him without much patience to deal with the latest piece of madness fate had decided to thrust upon him.

"I am Death." The figure's hands twitched towards a pair of scythes at his waist, eyes flitting about to take in his surroundings. About to make a sarcastic response to that, Harry stilled, glancing down at the Hallows which he could feel pulsing with a renewed energy at the figure's presence.

"I believe you're here because of these." Holding up the three Hallows, realizing that this was the first time he held all three in his hands at the same time, he waited for the figure to recognize the three items he had supposedly created.

"And those are?" the figure's orange eyes studied the three Hallows but there was no recognition within them.

"The Deathly Hallows, the items said to make one Master of Death if brought together." He explained, ready to make a shield spell and fight for his life should the figure before him turn angry.

"What?!" the figure hissed, a purple aura flaring to life around the supposed Death, scythes in hand as he took a threatening step towards Harry.

"Back off!" he snapped back, raising the elder wand only to pause when he saw Death freeze and step back, eyes wide at the being forced to do so on command. "They…they really do control you." Harry frowned, staring at the three items in disgust, hating the idea of enslaving another being.

"Those 'Hallows'," Death hissed out, "they reek of the Council and their magic."

"How do I destroy them?" he asked Death who looked up surprised "I'm not a fan of control. Could I just give them to you?" as he asked he threw the resurrection stone to the figure who caught it.

"It's still tied to you," Death frowned before studying Harry closer "and their power has bled into you somewhat."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, in no mood to talk in circles.

Picking that up Death threw the stone back, "They haven't fully bled in yet but with their magic tied to you you'll stop aging within a few years. Anyway these are old, made several centuries if not millennia ago by the beings I serve. It would seem they sought a way to collar me."

"You have my word I'll help you find a way to break them." The tired wizard swore, his magic pulsing to reaffirm his oath. He had lost almost everything, but he knew his friends would want him to help 'Death', Hermione alone would likely have raised holy Hell at the idea of enslaving another through some ancient artifact.

"…Who are you?" Death began to circle him, studying him with keen intent "I've never before felt this sort of power when I met the inhabitants of the third Kingdom."

"Harry Potter," he replied dryly, offering his hand to Death "the boy-who-lived, the man-who-won, and a wizard who is tired of losing my family."

"Family," Death let out a dry humorless chuckle, "that is something I can understand. Sit 'Harry Potter', it would seem we have much to discuss."

 **AN: This chapter was a bit slow, but it was necessary to establish the reason Harry commands Death, let Death and Harry meet, and explain how this world differs slightly. Next chapter is where things pick up.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Alright everyone, time for the story to kick off. It apparently wasn't clear so I'm making sure everyone knows that this starts before the games do so when I said Harry would travel with Death and an OC demon it would be during the timeline of Darksiders 2. Finally the images for what that OC demon will look like are on the Facebook page for these stories.**

Master of the Horseman

Chapter 2

-Harry-

Yawning, Harry took a sip of his tea as he relaxed at a small café in the muggle world, waiting for Death to show up for their weakly meet up. It had been almost six years since the war against Voldemort ended and the magical world was still in chaos. The two factions that had formed, the ones led by Kingsley and Umbridge, were still in conflict, each insisting that they were the legitimate government and had declared the other traitors. Each side declared their own laws and refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of laws passed by the other, the only place close to safe was Diagon Alley as the Goblins had killed anyone who tried to use the marketplace as a battleground.

Every day he got a letter from Kingsley's faction who begged him to come and lead them while Umbridge's faction kept demanding he surrender to stand trial. Each letter was happily used to fuel the fireplace after he got his daily laugh by reading them. The only ones he stilled talked to from the magical world were the members of Dumbledore's Army who had survived, most of the populace who weren't apart of either government faction hiding in their homes or the muggle world.

Over the past few years Harry and Death had studied the enchantments placed upon the three Hallows, bringing in Death's siblings to help with the research, the four Horsemen becoming common sights to see in Grimmuald place. There hadn't been a week gone by where he hadn't seen Fury perusing the Black family library, Strife pillaging his pantry, War exploring the still trapped areas of the manor, or Death in his lab to study the different relics he possessed. The other horsemen of the apocalypse had been outraged at the discovery of the Hallows, that the council they had sworn allegiance to had betrayed one of their own in such a manner, even if the Hallows had been made and lost many centuries before.

"Hey Mac!" looking up he saw someone run into the café, "Turn on the news, people are saying there are meteors falling all over the globe!" excited murmuring filled the building as the barista turned on a television which showed clusters of meteors falling at different cities around the globe, moving into orbit at an astronomical rate. Glancing outside, Harry's eyes widened, "Shit!" he yelled, falling back out of his chair, seeing the cluster of flaming rocks falling towards London. Screams filled the air as more and more people began to see the falling balls of fire. The cluster hit the earth with a boom but didn't cause the widespread destruction that meteorites of that size should have.

Palming the Elder wand, he rushed over to the craters, those things were definitely not natural. He had barely taken three steps towards the impact craters before something began to rise out of them, several somethings. Beings that could only be described as angels and demons, blade locked against claw. Some of them weren't happy to just fight each other though, various beings splitting off from the craters to begin attacking the people who fled in panic.

"Hey, over here!" he yelled, pulling the sword of Gryffindor from one of his pockets and drawing the attention of the four-legged demons that were trying to eat the people too slow to flee. Yelling out, he slashed up at the first that pounced towards him, having picked up sword play from the riders, his wand in his off hand to fire blasting curses at the fighting beings.

"Run!" he yelled to the muggles who were stunned at one of their own pulling a sword from seemingly nowhere and fire blasts of magic from a stick. A roar from an armor covered demon breaks them from their shock. The demon drew a sword and pointed it at him, making some sort of statement in a language he couldn't recognize. "Fuck you and your mother." He replied eloquently, the demon's narrowed gaze showing it understood English perfectly.

Giving a yell, the armored demon swung its sword at him as he ducked under it, the blade slicing through a lamppost like it was made of paper. Jumping up, Harry swung the Sword of Gryffindor only for his eyes to widen as it shattered on the demon's armor. Goblin steel was indestructible only compared to earthen metals it would seem. Reacting quickly he brought up his wand and used a spell he had developed that created a singular burst of Fiend Fyre that faded away within moments, staying only long enough to engulf the demon as he saw the shards of his blade on the ground.

Looking up, he saw the street was empty as the other angels are demons had scattered to the winds along with the muggles, corpses filling the street. Cursing, Harry summoned the shards of the Sword of Gryffindor into his expanded pockets and apparated towards Diagon Alley. It was a massacre, corpses being eaten by demons in the street, shops burning, and the Goblins trying to make a last stand on the steps of Gringotts, witches and wizards firing spells over their shield wall at the incoming horde of demons. Down other parts of the alleys he saw the angels fighting the witches and wizards of the two government factions, screaming out about removing the vile blasphemers.

"Bombarda!" he roared, aura aglow and eyes alight with fury as he blasted a large demon with claws coming from each hand in the back. Bringing out his wand he summoned more Fiend Fyre, seeing that it was something able to get through the dense armor some of the demons wore where some of the goblin blades couldn't.

For a moment, as his fires raged, and the demons turned to face him, he hoped he might just be able to win this battle. Then the angels soared over, the forces for both sides laying dead and burning as more of the ground split, lava running through the chasms like rivers. Blasts of blue fire rained towards him from the Angels weapons as they targeted him and the demons both. Seeing him attacked the witches and wizards still alive broke ranks with the goblins and began to fire at the flying angelic beings and soon the battle turned into a storm of chaos. With the broken lines the goblin's flanks were exposed as more and more fell like dominos, the untrained witches and wizards falling even faster.

Screaming in rage and grief he summoned more and more Fiend Fyre, trying to save what little remained of those defending but as fast as he could summon fire the hordes of angels and demons cut down the innocents faster. As the last wizard fell, a distinctive mop of red hair dripping with blood, he snapped and let the fires rage around him, collapsing to his knees and sobbing at the needless slaughter. He didn't react as his fires sputtered out with his magical core running low, didn't raise his head at the sound of massive footsteps stomping towards him. He raised his head only as hot blood drenched him and two separate thuds sounded on either side.

"You simply can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Death sighed, looking at the rubble of what was left of the British Magical world. Up in the air, Dust gave a piercing cry, the sound soon drowned out by the cracking of earth, the hiss of flames, roars of demons, bangs of weapon fire, and the screams of the dying.

"Come on," Death pulled him up, "this…this is madness. We need to find the others, I can't imagine they won't learn of this chaos." Even as Death helped him onto the back of a concerned Despair, Harry felt in his gut that things were only about to get worse.

 **AN: I know it was short, but I couldn't do more for this chapter without it becoming filler. Next chapter the timeline of Darksiders 2 begins so be prepared for that. Final request is that in the review you suggest any names you think would be good for our lovely demon OC, I'm curious as to what you'll suggest, and anything else you would like to see for this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: There seems to have been some misunderstanding last chapter. I said that this story would take place during Darksiders 2 but people seem to think that by Death saying they would look for the other riders then that invalidated all of the game canon. War is there because of the stunt the Council pulled (as all fans of the game already know), Death is there because he was there to meet Harry. The others wouldn't have known about the fake apocalypse according to the games' canon. Also, question, would it count as a** _ **fake**_ **apocalypse since, while the seals weren't fully broken, the world did still pretty much end?**

 **AN2: I put that War's story, both his prologue and the game of Darksiders one, happens in America because they showed major cities, the cop cars had English lettering on them, and the steering wheels were on the left side of the car if you look inside them. I'm not sure what countries besides America and England would write 'Police' on the cars in English and given the wheel placement I'm going with the States for Darksiders one.**

 **AN3: Again, I'm sorry about how long it's been. New job is killer with the hours right now.**

Master of the Horseman

Chapter 3

-Harry-

Silently, Harry stroked Hedwig's feathers as they looked out over the ash filled wasteland where Death made his home. It had been ten years since he saw the rest of the British Magical world get slaughtered by the Angels and Demons of the first two kingdoms. After Death had found him they had tried to find the rest of the riders. Harry and Death had rode on Despair, using magic to go from country to country as they desperately searched for the horseman. They got to America last and saw War fall into a portal, thrashing in pain as the largest demon Harry had ever seen laughed with a gaping bleeding eye socket.

After that they had left Earth, going back to the realm where Death made his home. There Harry had remained, reliving the memories of that day again and again for the first couple years before they became almost num, Death meanwhile would search for War, Strife and Fury helping with the search as well when they could. After the first couple years even Harry's aging had stopped, left with nothing but to train himself in the ashen lands where he was often alone.

"Harry, pack your bags." Looking up from his spot beside Hedwig he saw Death return again, the eldest horseman coming back to give him an update and bring food whenever he could.

"Did you find War?" letharga and apathy vanishing in the possibility of his friend, one of the few ones he had left, being safe.

"He is tethered in the void, the Council blaming him for the destruction of the Kingdom of Man." Death growled out, "We need to prove his innocence and get him back."

"The same bastards who made the Hallows?" he scowled, not the largest fan of the Charred Council and their machinations.

"Yes, the same bastards." Death didn't even bat an eye at the term for one of the strongest forces in existence.

"So where exactly are we supposed to find evidence?" he asked, grabbing what few possessions he had and stowing them in a bag as Death grabbed what would be needed for whatever journey lay before them.

"The Crowfather," Death finished preparing and put his scythes at his hip, "he is the keeper of Secrets. If anyone would have the knowledge and ability to prove War's innocence then it would be him. But first you need a mount of your own. We need to get to the Horsemaster, custodian of the Far Fields."

Frowning, Harry slung his bag over his shoulder as Hedwig and Dust rested on the rafters above the door, "Why?" he asked, having never heard of the Horsemaster from the riders.

"We need to get you a horse." The rider of Death said seriously, "We have to save War and when we ride we're bringing chaos with us."

-Watcher-

"Speak worm," the center head of the Charred council spoke in its booming guttural voice "why have you come before us uncalled?"

"Death has learned of War's location," the multi eyed creature simpered out, forcing down his rage at being looked down upon by the council "he took off for his home after learning of this from the Warden."

"The rest of the four were not to learn of War's location!" the right head roared out in outrage, the furious gaze of all three stone heads bored into the Watcher who recoiled, his kind having been formed for the sole purpose of serving the council, no matter how much they detested their chains.

"It was not I who revealed it." The Watcher spoke quickly, eager to save his own life. He was meant to be tethered to War when the time had come, and he looked forward to making the rider of the red horse suffer. The horsemen had cost his kind their chance at freedom and the memory of a Watcher was long.

"It would seem the idea of secrecy from all was a less than perfect defense." The left head mused, it's anger more controlled than its kin "Either way, we shall have to keep a closer eye upon the Warden, he always was close to the pale rider."

"Where does Death go now?" the middle head asked, "I'm rather surprised he did not venture into the void itself to pull War out."

"The warden would not allow it." The Watcher couldn't keep the smirk from his voice, always enjoying seeing one refuse a rider "Friendship or not, the Warden has never refused your direct commands."

"That is true enough," the right head growled out, fire and lava bursting forth from its maw "but it doesn't answer where Death has gone!"

"I sent one of my siblings to follow him." The watcher answered quickly. When it came to the council, if one did not answer fast enough or if their answer displeased the trio of ancient stone heads then death was often the preferred punishment the victim could receive, lest the council seek to become creative. "They should be back any moment." Almost as if summoned, the Watcher saw one of his sisters fly into the chamber, her presence bringing a wave of relief as he knew the council wouldn't have to wait, and now he had a scapegoat to focus their anger upon if needed.

"Honored council," his sister bowed low to the flaming heads "Death returned to his home in the ashen wastelands. There was another at his home there and they intend to find a way to free War."

"How?" the three heads demanded in tandem, the Watcher's sister wincing at their wrath, not as used to facing it as he was.

"H-he said that they would go to the Crowfather," she whimpered, "that the ancient Maker's secrets would be able to prove War was innocent and therefor assure his freedom. First though they are going to the Far Fields to get a horse for the man who was at Death's home."

"Who was this man?" the right head asked, voicing the question that the Watcher wondered himself.

"He looked and felt…human." His sister answered hesitantly before screaming as the fires from the mouths of the three heads flare up and consume her in the shock of the Charred Council.

"A survivor of the third kingdom." The right head's voice is filled with shock, not caring that their surprise had killed his sister.

"It would be wise to reclaim him," the left head spoke up "it would be the most viable way to revive their species. They may yet have a purpose to fulfill."

"Watcher." the center head turned its burning gaze onto him as he worked to remain calm. With their focus on him "Send out those we have to reclaim Death's mortal. If they are going to the Far Fields first then we merely need to have them wait near the Horsemaster."

"Of course Honored Council, it will be done." He bowed and slipped away, relieved that he still breathed.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I recently got and beat Darksiders 3 (that final boss is bullshit) and it gave me the Darksiders bug so new chapter for you!**

 **AN: the breed for Harry's horse is a blue roan, I'll post a picture for the regular version of the horse on the Facebook page for my stories.**

Master of the Horseman

Chapter 4

-Harry-

The far fields were a strange but relaxing place. Despair seemed right at him, nickering happily as they walked through the waist high grass. "I wondered when you would come to me." A voice from beside them called out as Harry jumped startled, having not heard the other man. Looking to the source of the voice he saw a man with long blonde hair and a beard, a bullwhip on his waist and two swords at his back. "I didn't expect you to bring another with you however." The blonde man approached, going to Despair first.

"He's the reason we're here." Death spoke out, seemingly unphased by the man appearing from seemingly nowhere "He needs a horse."

"A fifth rider?" the Keeper turned to them, "Or has the Charred Council merely decided to replace War?"

"Never!" Death snarled, green aura flaring around the Pale Rider before he forced himself to calm "I will never allow War to be simply replaced. We are going to see him freed from the Void."

"So, a Human rider then." The Keeper inspected him before frowning, "A human mage, and one who time does not touch."

"The Council tried making relics to control me. They were lost and bonded to my newest brother." Death clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"I see." The Keeper nodded, leading them to a cliff side, an approaching dust cloud containing the herd from which his mount would come "New Rider, leave any weapons you have here. Taming these beasts will require a tool of far greater strength. They are ancient, the blood of creation flows through their veins. The winds of eternity blow through their manes. They will not yield to steel or whip, to gun or blade, to magic or might. Only to your will." At that, Death and the Keeper stepped back. This was Harry's task, not theirs.

Looking back to the approaching dust cloud he narrowed his eyes, for his friend. With a yell he leapt from the cliff, using the flight magic he had once seen Voldemort and Snape use he shot towards the herd, their thundering hooves shaking the earth. With a boom, he landed before the herd, staring down and mustering up his Gryffindor nerve. He felt fear, he wanted to run, but he refused to. The Riders were his friends, his family. They had become his brothers, his sister, his family. With a yell, Harry charged into the herd itself, he _refused_ to lose any more family.

Surprised and startled, the herd parted around him, their charging heads and flanks coming within a hair's breadth of him. His eyes locked with one horse that refused to divert direction. Giving another yell, Harry grabbed the charging horse's flank and swung up onto its back, the other members of the herd scattering to reveal Harry on his mount. "Well done." Looking up, he saw Death on Despair and the Keeper walking abreast, "A display of courage as impressive as the magnificent creature you ride upon. It has known no name; until the one you are about to give it."

The horse met his gaze, eyes staring into his soul as the mount waited for its name. He frowned, trying to determine what to name his new steed when a word rang out in his mind as he knew it was this horse's name, "Desolation." He whispered as the horse became aglow with light, power pulsing out. When the light faded his horse was revealed, its hair a bluish color with golden flecks scattered along the flank, the hair of the main, tail, and hooves burning a brilliant gold, much as the flames he had once sent at Voldemort.

"A fine name." Death nodded as Despair approached it's fellow horse "Now we must ride. The Crowfather has the secrets we'll need to free War."

"Then let me help old friend." The Keeper spoke up, glowing with a brilliant amber light, "Change is coming Horsemen," the Keeper's voice echoed as the winds whipped around them "change and betrayal. All shall be forced to choose a side and I am no different. Know my side has already been chosen." Light shone from the ground bellow them as a serpent hole was forced open by the ancient Keeper of the far Fields "Now go!" with a bang, Harry and Death fall into the hole and are sent hurtling to the frozen lair of the Crowfather.

"Merlin damn its freezing." Harry hissed out, quickly applying warming charms to himself, Hedwig, Dust, Death, Despair, and Desolation, not wanting to risk things.

"Yes, the Crowfather has always favored the cold for some reason." Death lightly kicked his heels into Despair's sides as their flaming mounts took off running to the mountain in the distance.

"Will the Maker be willing to talk to us?" Harry called out to Death as they rode, the snow melting at the flames of their steeds, Despair and Desolation racing competitively to see who was faster.

"He will talk of his own volition or I will make him." Death growled out, Harvester pulsing hungrily on the Pale Rider's back.

"What the Keeper said back there," Harry grunted as Desolation leapt over a boulder, golden flames dancing around them as Hedwig swooped in a playful game with Dust "Am I actually one of the Riders of the Apocalypse now?"

"You are my brother Harry," Death spoke seriously "just was the others see you. You have the horse of a rider but not the weapons or form of one. But I am unsure if you could still become a full Rider." He nodded at that, trying to figure out what he would be the rider of if he did become one.

-Keeper-

Silently, the Keeper walked through the tall grass even as the servants of the Charred council tried to find Death and the new rider, Harry. "Find them." A watcher hissed out, the demonic and angelic war slaves that came with snarling even as the magic bindings flared at a twitch of the Watcher's fingers, "Don't test me worms." The watcher smirked "I'm the one with the power here."

"No, you're the fool who doesn't pay attention." His voice carried as he allowed them to notice him, just as his whip wrapped around the surprised watcher's neck. With a tug, there was a loud snap as the creature's neck broke and its body went limp. The angel and demon war slaves gasped as their bindings dissolved without the Watcher still alive. They backed up from him quickly, likely not wanting to risk angering him or appearing as a threat. "Go," he opened a series of serpent holes "change is brewing, and we must all pick a side soon. Remember who enslaved you and who set you free." He watched the angels and demons run into the portals without a second thought. He knew many of them would side against the Horsemen, but it would be worth it if any chose to side with them.

"You'll need all the help you can get old friend." He said softly, approaching a horse in the distance with a main of fire.

-Lilith-

Stalking through the halls of what had once been Samael's palace, the mother of the Nephilim smirked as she saw the lust and desire in the eyes of the demons she passed. It amused her how poor they were at hiding it, if they attempted to do so at all.

"Mistress." One of the warriors she had brought with her when she came to this place rushed over and knelt, "I bring news you need to know."

"Oh?" she asked, smirking as she stalked towards the kneeling demon "And what news would that be my pet?"

"I pretended to be one of the Charred Council's battle slaves mistress," he continued kneeling, explaining that first to likely excuse why he hadn't been around the palace even if she hadn't noticed the absence of a faceless grunt "Death has gone to seek the knowledge of the Crowfather to free War from their hold."

"I already knew he would," she sighed, so much for something interesting "my son is so predictable. It would be cute if it wasn't so sad."

"And he doesn't ride alone." The demon continued unswayed "He rides out with a human who has gained a horse from the far fields. The other sources I've questions show the human has access to magic and is immortal."

"Oh really?" now that bit _was_ interesting, "And the Crowfather you say? I'll have to keep an eye on this."

"Say the word mistress and I will follow them. My eyes are yours, your will my own." The Demon kneels to her, unwavering loyalty in his voice as she smirked. Occasionally one found a rare demon who lacked the ambition to conquer and claim title but that made them very useful to those who did.

"Not quite yet," she traced her fingers under the surprised and confused demons chin "you may go do so in the morning. First, I believe you deserve a" she leaned down and whispered into his ear "reward." Turning, she swayed her hips as she went to her bed chamber, making it implicit what his reward was. It would keep him loyal and alleviate her boredom for a bit. That human though, that could be interesting, maybe even the start of something new like the Nephilim were. Hearing the frantic hurried footsteps behind her, Lilith smirked.

 **AN: Just to let you know I already have the whole 'will Harry be a full rider or won't he' decided. I'm willing to listen to opinions and suggestions but I already have a plan for it.**


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